


CONVICTION (what's in a name)

by Kamaete



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Child Abuse, Episode: s03e12 The Western Air Temple, Gen, Mention of Suicidal Ideation, Soul Name AU, Zuko (Avatar)-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:55:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28198017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamaete/pseuds/Kamaete
Summary: And even though Zuko is all firebender heat and steel, the feeling of eyes on his back makes Sokka think nothing more than of standing in the middle of the ice fields, knowing an Orcawolf is watching you but not knowing where it is. It's knowing there is shelter a thousand steps ahead of you and also knowing the moment you step forward the Orcawolf will chase. Zuko's name is taking that step anyway.
Relationships: The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 188





	CONVICTION (what's in a name)

**Author's Note:**

> Posted this on tumblr a bit ago and then edited it a bit more than usual to post here! LOVE the concept of souls names. I didn't even get to, like, TALK about all the things I wanted to in this fic bc it's so short, so FEEL FREE to ask questions
> 
> Content Warnings: There's a brief mention where Katara realizes that maybe Zuko would let himself die at one point. // A bit of nonsexual non con RE being given ultamatums // Mention of Ozai scarring Zuko // Internalized Victim Blaming for a bit (bc Zuko) // everything else is pretty canon-typical. But I can explain in more depth or add more tags if necessary!

"What can I do to prove to you I've changed?" He rasps, frustratingly desperate, hands almost clawed into the stone of the temple dias. 

Katara sneers and draws her water whip to ready, like she can erase even the memory of Zuko kneeling here in this temporary haven. "Nothing!" She yells. 

But Sokka raises his hand to his chin and thinks, quickly. His fingers rub there, catching on his skin and for a moment he struggles--he’s not old enough to have a beard, he’s not old enough to stand here at a _trial_ because that’s what this is, isn’t it? He hasn’t even been ice-dodging properly, even if he received his mark, two marks from both Water Tribes. But it’s only him here, and his friends even if all of them are kids. There’s no one else to do it.

There's not much less that he wants than Zuko in their space, helping them. Zuko has followed them, doggedly across continents and seas. He hunted them, dug up resources to track them as faithfully as he had. Zuko is the prince of the nation they’re at war with… of course Sokka doesn’t want him nearby.

But, here's the thing: Zuko has followed them doggedly, faithfully, since the South Pole. Zuko has found them even now. He must have resources to have gotten here, in an upside down air temple, and the knowledge to have found them, hiding in a relic of Aang’s past. Zuko is the prince of the nation they're at war with… Sokka can see why they might want him nearby.

"Then take me prisoner," Zuko starts saying, unfurling his fingers from the stone and offering them. 

"We don't want you!" Katara yells and splashes Zuko with enough force he rocks backwards. 

Steam rises from Zuko's shoulders, his eye wide as his hair drips in his face, before he steels himself. To try and entice them again, to pick himself up and turn away for once, Sokka doesn't know. He interrupts Katara's next words. 

"Give us your soul name," Sokka says. 

The silence that follows is deep. His words echo dully in the canyon. 

"Sokka?" Aang asks, stepping to see Sokka's face. 

"It doesn't matter if you have changed or not. We'll have your name if you try to betray us." He tilts his head towards Aang, towards Katara but his eyes don't leave Zuko. 

"That's--that's too much," Aang is saying, shaking his head, but Katara considers it. Her mouth is a straight line and her eyes are harder than Sokka has seen them. 

Toph says nothing, has said nothing besides her first entreaty to consider Zuko's offer. Sokka doesn't turn to look at her reaction. 

Zuko's is enough to look at on its own. His shoulders stiff, his skin pale; there is the smallest rainbow refracted from a bead of water on his sunlit cheek. He's surprised, shocked, maybe even afraid and Sokka has never seen Zuko _afraid_ before, just angry. But now, Sokka wonders if Zuko's anger and his fear are two sides of the same coin. 

Sokka remembers Zuko crouched over his Uncle feral, almost in his anger--his fear, Sokka thinks now. And who wouldn't be afraid at this moment? To give a piece of your soul away and trust someone with it, and why would Zuko trust them with his name? Sokka can count the soul names he knows on one hand; his sister, his father, his mother, Yue. 

He's only wanted to share his soul name with Yue, before. He remembers the fear and excitement. He hadn't had to share his name with his parents or Katara, they knew him when he was a kid, when that part of your soul is open and effortless, but he wanted to give that part of himself to Yue. He thought he might trust her with that part of himself. She beat him to it. 

Even now her name lives curled inside him, like a gentle-sleeping thing. A perfect reflection of the moon on the surface of ink-black water, icy wind against the back of his neck, and resettling his hood to keep warm. The knowledge that something deep, and beautiful, and so, so kind lies beneath the water, but not daring to break the surface tension. 

And Sokka watches Zuko close his eyes. When he opens them it is with resolve. 

"Okay," Zuko says. "Okay." 

He gets back to his knees, back straight in that uncomfortable way the Fire Nation sits, his hands lifted as if in supplication. He keeps his unsettling yellow eyes on Sokka. 

It was his plan so Sokka makes himself step forward. He feels Aang's hand reach out to him but Aang doesn't stop him. No one stops him, and he’s the only one there to do this so he keeps stepping forward until he stands over Zuko. 

Sokka doesn’t know how Fire Nation offers their name and he’s not about to learn. It takes him a moment of eyeing the way Zuko’s hands are offered to him before he knocks one aside and grips Zuko’s arm. 

Zuko tenses but grips back.

He feels a rush of heat, and he thinks they should have prepared for if Zuko tried burning them in this moment--but no, it's just. It's just Zuko's name. 

Fever-warm--of course, fire bender, Sokka thinks--but also the spray of salt water, which is surprising. The smell of iron, Fire Nation Steel, like the forge at Master Piandao's but thicker in the air. Sokka hears sliding, like silk over silk and the weight of something bearing down, like the gemimite that had crept up Sokka's arms until he couldn't move. And even though Zuko is all firebender heat and steel, the feeling of eyes on his back makes Sokka think nothing more than of standing in the middle of the ice fields, knowing an Orcawolf is watching you but not knowing where it is. 

It's knowing there is shelter a thousand steps ahead of you and also knowing the moment you step forward the Orcawolf will chase. Zuko's name is taking that step anyway. 

Sokka steps back away from Zuko and blinks and blinks. Zuko looks exactly the same, it's only Sokka's understanding that has changed. 

Zuko's eyes are predator-yellow, orcawolf-gold, Sokka thinks. 

"Zuko," he says to test it. He lets the feeling of fever and forge heated sword steel rise and he says it again. "Zuko." 

Something in Zuko's jaw clenches, his eyes sharpen and Sokka feels that lonely ice field again, but Zuko nods. "I think we can say that worked," Sokka announces and turns away from Zuko. He shoves Zuko's name back down, tries to find somewhere that isn't next to his family's names to store it. 

Sokka leaves first, then Toph with a disgruntled noise. Katara and Aang stand where they're left, with Zuko still... there. Waiting. 

Katara looks at Aang and finds him unaccountably sad, his wide grey eyes distressed. To her ears, Zuko's name had sounded the same, flat as ever, from her brother's mouth. But you know when someone speaks with power, it's just that the only name she knows for Zuko is the one her experiences have given her. She can’t understand it, yet. 

Or ever. 

She thinks of Zuko and she thinks of fear, she thinks of shadows of violence flickering on the walls of homes, of ice melting as red, red, red licks up and devours entire families. She doesn't want that living inside of her, hates that Sokka is carrying that now. 

"I'm going to check on Sokka--Aang. Keep an eye on him." She orders and turns. Of course now they have to keep him, they have his soul name, that changes things. He can teach Aang Firebending and then they can drop him off somewhere he won't be able to bother them anymore, but for now at least they have to keep him. 

Her brother and his stupid ideas, Katara thinks.

"Yeah, uh--come on," she hears Aang say, to Zuko she guesses. "No more names today," he says. Katara stomps away. 

She keeps her resolve for a couple days. Sokka bounces back, Toph is quieter than usual, Aang dutifully keeps his lessons for Earth and Waterbending and half-heartedly asks for Firebending lessons. Katara puts her foot down. No Firebending lessons until she can be sure Zuko isn't going to fry Aang when they aren't looking. 

Sokka is her brother and she loves him, but he shouldn't have to be Zuko's keeper by himself. He'd taken Zuko with him to find their dad, and he _had_ to take Zuko, he wouldn't leave Zuko alone with them. Not when Sokka was the one with the pact and they weren’t. They weren't defenseless, Katara is not defenseless. But Sokka takes responsibility hard, with the same fervor he had approached defending their village. Pushing himself to hunt, to shore their walls--the walls _he’d_ built--to pass on skills he had barely learned himself. 

It's the same way he will stay up at night, redrafting their schedule and Katara will have to physically unclench his hand from his vine of charcoal and wheedle, drawing his name from her chest, telling him, please _Sokka_ , it's time for bed everyone is tired. 

Sokka doesn't use her name very often. The last time had been at the South Pole when he didn't trust Aang. Before that, he hadn't used her name since their mother had died. 

Katara uses his name a lot. She loves Sokka's name. Her mother's name is too sharp a memory, it flutters behind her breastbone like it might escape if she speaks it. Her father's name is tucked in her core, as if she can curl around it and keep him safe from the dangers he faces while away from them just as long as she keeps it quiet and smothered. But Sokka's name lives in her lungs. 

She uses it when she scolds him, when she hugs him, when she is afraid for him. She won't let him forget that she's right by his side, and that she won't leave him, not like mom left, or dad left, or Yue left. 

Every time Katara says Sokka's name she shades it with her understanding of him. Ice walls sheltering from howling bitter winds and the sturdy foundation of a home. The piercing howl of an orcawolf as the spirit lights dance in the night sky, and polardogs pressed together sharing strength and warmth. Sokka's name is understanding that she is part of something more than herself, part of a family, and Katara will remind him that he's stuck with her for as long as she lives. 

And, well. There's something in her that _wants_ to know Zuko. She wants to taste ash on her tongue. She is sure Zuko's name is fire and violence, but if she knows it then she can keep him in his place. She can make sure Aang is safe, from this threat at least, and share the burden with Sokka. If she knows Zuko's name, then she finally knows who he is. No more tricks in Crystal cities, he won't be able to prey on her weaknesses anymore. 

So when he comes to her, and says, "I know who killed your mother," Katara has already decided what to do. 

She says, "Give me your name." And she holds out her hand. 

She's vindicated, seeing his eyes widen, the scar pulling around his left side. He inhales, then nods sharply his breath releasing in a cloud of steam. The night is cold, even Katara's breath puffs small clouds in the air, but that doesn't stop herself from thinking he should have more control than this. 

Zuko doesn’t grip her forearm like any of her family in the Water Tribes would. He puts his hand in hers and his fingers are shockingly warm, surprisingly callused for a prince. Katara remembers Yue's hands, smooth and fine and elegant. King Kuei’s hands were soft and long-fingered and weak. That is what she expected, she realizes. Hands that have never seen work in their life. 

Zuko's hands are rough, even scarred in places. 

He tells her his name. 

Heat at first, of course. Like a burn from the sun, making her skin tight and red, then the cool-sting of salt water making Katara think, ridiculously of spending too much time at a beach. Then blood, biting her cheek on accident, the pain negligible but the metallic tang overwhelming, and that's what she expected. Hearing someone or something shift behind her, heart beating panic-fast and then getting wrapped up tight, and squeezed until her bones creak, like when her dad swings her around and around because he missed her. No, Katara thinks, it's getting wrapped up like ice spears, the cold burning as much as fire, and being unable to wrench free. It's remembering how Master Pakku looked at her, knowing she was good enough but refusing her anyways. 

Zuko's name is someone, everyone saying no, and then doing it anyway. 

Katara takes her hand back. Of course, that's the Fire Nation through-and-through, she thinks. "Take me to him, Zuko," she says. She orders. The copper tang that tints his name isn't ash, but it's close enough. 

Katara never needed Zuko's name to show him she was a threat. She's a Master Waterbender under the full-moon, a healer who knows the secrets of the body, she can stop the rain if she has to. And she does. 

Zuko doesn't flinch. 

He doesn't overstep, he accepts her lead, stays quiet unless he needs to speak up. He's not cowed, he doesn't wait for her permission. He's just-- 

Respectful, Katara realizes. This is about her, she realizes. She already _knows_ this is about her. It's about Zuko trying to prove himself too, but it's like Zuko has forgotten that part. It’s like helping Katara find justice--or revenge--is all that he's after, like he doesn’t care if it’ll help him, too. 

It would be ironic, Katara thinks. Zuko has terrorized her home, he knows she wants justice--revenge?--from him too. Here he is, watching her ready to kill a man for crimes Zuko could be accused of as well and he stands there like this is right. 

Like he hadn't knelt in front of her, hands offered, and asked her--them--to sentence him. 

She sees him out of the corner of her eye, sees the same calm as when he'd knelt. When she stops the rain she sees the same surprise, the same acceptance as when Sokka had demanded his soul name in answer. 

Something heavy settles in her stomach, when she realizes that perhaps, this isn't ironic. That if she had said, _I need you to die for your crimes_ , he would have said _okay_ , and then, _okay_ , in the same exact way. She lets it rain. 

She says this, half to Zuko half to herself, on the way back. "If I had said you needed to die for us to trust you instead of Sokka asking for your name. What would your answer have been?" 

Zuko blinks at her, wary. "Really?" He asks. She doesn't elaborate, and he falls quiet again. 

She starts to think he won't answer when he finally does. "I came to you--to the Avatar, I mean--to... atone. To stop my father and my family, to make things better. I, uh, Uncle says, said, I don't think things through," here he laughs, bitter. "I guess I forgot that I'm my father's son." 

Katara sees his face shutter and she turns away, not wanting to see whatever expression he puts on. "My father cannot be allowed to continue as he has been. My family cannot be allowed to continue as they have been. I have been complicit in their crimes." He says. "If death is the answer to my father, then for the years as his loyal son I should share it." 

Katara narrows her eyes and looks back at him. Zuko is considering his knee, his fingers worrying at a loose thread. Katara knows Zuko now, knows by the cadence of his words Zuko was not calling himself Fire Lord Ozai's loyal son. There was a breadth of history in that phrase she doesn’t understand. 

"But..." he says and looks at her. "I'm done letting my father dictate my destiny. I want to help fix what my family has broken. I don't know what I would have said back then. But I am going to help where my family has only hurt before. I can't do that if I'm dead." 

Katara only hums in response, and watches as Zuko's shoulders find their way to his ears. He turns red and looks away from her and mumbles an apology. 

Zuko's name is sunburned skin and bitten lips and, Katara is realizing, standing up when no one else will. Not because she’s the only one who can, but because if not her, then who? If she doesn’t help a village starving and sick, then who will? If he doesn’t help Aang learn, then who will?

Something settles in her and she relaxes. She isn't ready to forget--not Yon Rha, not the Fire Nation's crimes--but maybe this one boy. This one boy she can try to forgive. 

Toph had been fuming when Sokka suggested Zuko give them his name. His proper name, his Soul Name. She'd listened to Zuko's heart go patpatpat then fall into the first facsimile of calm she'd ever heard from the guy. His acceptance was the only reason she hadn't opened a trench between Sokka and Zuko, flinging them apart. 

Soul names aren’t idle things to trade each other, Toph knows better than anyone. They aren’t collectables to show off at every moment, or treasures to display and gawk over. Her name isn’t something to fall, simpering, out of a mouth that would refuse her the right to live how she wants.

If she could, she'd rip the knowledge of her name from her parents. 

Badgermoles have proper names, too. She'd learned that when they taught her Earth Bending. Warm like the earth's embrace. Unbowing as the mountain before the sun. She'd quietly shared her name in turn, to these two badgermoles who had no reason to care about Toph. 

Katara uses Sokka’s name all the time. She leans into his space and asks him to put down what he’s doing, says he’s not sleeping well, or he’s getting lost in his own head and he stops. He just stops what he’s doing and lets her nag him into doing whatever she wants him to do. It boils at Toph, crusts on her skin like drying mud and her fingernails ache for something to scrape against. 

Katara asks Toph to help with this, or with that, and Toph doesn’t. She won’t let Katara tell her what to do, she doesn’t need Katara’s help either, and even though Aang and Sokka and Katara all hold their hands out to shake one way or another Toph keeps her hands to herself. 

So Katara doesn’t have Toph’s name, but she does have Sokka’s and Toph is tired of it. Tired of hearing Sokka’s name fall from Katara’s mouth like it means something--because it does--and tired of seeing Sokka stop whatever he’s doing just because Katara asks him to. And then Sokka has Zuko’s name. 

He doesn’t use it after that first time, at least not that Toph hears, and it’s not like Toph isn’t listening. When Sokka or Katara get too close to Zuko she traces their steps and listens in. She counts the way Zuko's heart goes thump-thump-thump in his chest when Katara steps closer than six feet of him, how it slows when Sokka passes by. 

She gets him being scared of Katara--though, what he thinks Miss Sugar Queen is going to do Toph doesn’t know and doesn’t care. What she doesn’t get is how Zuko catches sight of Sokka and he calms. He doesn’t relax so much as he subsides. His pulse slows and he isn’t as tense as he normally is, outside of helping Aang through Firebending stances. 

Toph feels this, in her feet, in her bones, her earth sense doesn’t lie and Zuko can’t lie if his life depended on it, she knows. She can’t wrap her head around it. He could be talking to Aang and his heart would flutter like a sparrowhawk beating at the bars of his ribcage and then Sokka will come by and not even say anything but Zuko will breathe and his heart will rest. 

She doesn’t get it, but he’s not afraid so she doesn’t do anything. 

She should have done something. 

Katara and Zuko come back from their field trip and admit to not murdering anyone in cold blood. It’s not like Toph was worried about Katara killing someone, but Katara comes back settled and Zuko, well. Zuko comes back at all.

And now Katara holds Zuko’s name in her mouth, and Toph knows how she said it before, like so much cracked porcelain she held bloody in her mouth, and if Zuko subsided whenever Sokka brushed against the six foot sphere of Zuko’s personal space than Toph doesn’t know what to call it when Katara says Zuko’s name now.

She has sat through dozens of stories where Sokka or Katara or Aang will recall Zuko chasing them--hunting them, they say. Toph doesn’t have those memories. She’s only had the Fire Princess chase after her, and even then, past that one too long night of no rest, the chase never really mattered to Toph. She can take care of herself, has taken care of herself. Will take care of herself over and over again. 

All she knows of Zuko, is that his heart beats and beats and beats when he’s cautiously stoking their campfire, and then skips when Katara slides a basin of water closer to him and asks if he’d be able to heat this _Zuko._

Toph has fought Katara before, and will fight her again she’s sure.

This time, Zuko is the one who steps between them, thanks Toph for her concern, thanks her again almost disbelieving, as if the first time had been politeness but the second time it really sinks in. That Toph is concerned for him. For Zuko. That she thinks his name shouldn't be used so lightly, that it was taken from him. 

"I chose to give it to them, Toph. I don't mind if they use it." 

"You jump every time!" She accuses, even though he hasn’t been lying. 

"I..." he trails off and Toph can hear rustling. His hand kneading his clothes? Or ruffling his hair? "I think it's nice..." he mumbles and Toph can practically feel his embarrassment rolling off of him. "It reminds me of my mom." 

“Oh, same,” Sokka says, and Zuko’s heart jumps again like he wasn’t aware that Sokka has spent the whole argument getting closer. “Katara is just… like that. With names.” He waves the whole concept off like he’s shooing away an insect. 

“I am not!” Katara almost shrieks.

“You’re the mom-friend, Katara, face it.” 

Zuko slides closer to Toph, his heart steady. He’s not quite hiding behind Toph--couldn’t really, he towers over her, she’s sure--but he’s slightly behind her. He’s still not afraid, even if he jumps when Katara pushes Sokka for his ribbing. Katara calls up the water from the dish washing basin and flings it at Sokka. Toph, having travelled with these idiots for both too long and too short a time, raises an earthen wall. Zuko sighs and Toph realises he’s just been keeping out of the splash zone. 

Not afraid, just dry. 

Not afraid, he’s just jumpy. 

Toph has only ever let the badgermoles know her and in return she only has the badgermoles in her heart. It’s something she’s grateful for. She doesn’t know her parent’s names, their real ones, has never been curious. She doesn’t know what they would be but she’s glad she doesn’t live with the knowledge, the knowing of what she should be and isn’t. What they want her to be and she isn’t. 

Zuko’s heart beats on and they stand just outside of Katara’s and Sokka’s fight which has devolved into childish giggling and screams as they tag each other around, and around, and around. It strikes her that Zuko doesn’t know Katara or Sokka’s name either. 

A war time later, Toph thinks of that moment, because Zuko is kneading the bridge of his nose with such force she thinks she'll hear it break. Some of Zuko's advisors are still discussing things, but they're going in circles, around and around and around, ignoring Zuko's suggestions while kowtowing to him anyways. 

Toph decides a break is in order. 

She stomps and the table jumps in the air, startling everyone into silence. 

"Time for lunch," she says and stands. "I'm taking my seeing-eye-Firelord." She grabs Zuko's sleeve and leaves with him, ignoring the sputtering in their wake. 

"I really should go back and straighten them out," Zuko says, but follows her anyway. 

"Let them stew." She orders. 

She leads him through the palace like she knows where she's going. She does, in the sense that she won't turn into a dead end, but she doesn't because this is Zuko's home and not her own. Still, she finds a garden and relishes the moment her feet find bare earth. 

As Zuko follows her she hears bushes rustling, leaves tinkling in the wind. Water laps somewhere close by and the quacking of turtleducks filters in. They draw closer to the turtleduck pond, Zuko likes the things, and Toph indulges him. Zuko takes the lead, settling them between the roots of a tree. Toph can hear him sigh as he relaxes and she dares to stick her feet out, carefully. Her toes find water and she splashes her feet once or twice before following Zuko's lead and relaxing. 

It’s nice that he can relax now, instead of just. Subside. Instead of grabbing his fear or his anger or his happiness and leashing them tightly, just in case. It took her a bit to realise that’s what he’d been doing as kids. They’re still kids, she guesses. But also war heroes and national leaders. 

She fits neatly by his side, Toph guesses that's to be expected, since he's older than her. She hates being coddled, but she likes sitting by Zuko's side. It's warm and he trusts her at his left. 

"Do you want my name?" She asks. She almost surprises herself with it. 

"I--what?" His heart thump-thumps in his chest and she's worried for a second before he settles. "Of course I do--I--you want to give it to me?" He asks. 

She breathes out a sigh, all she allows herself for relief, before she holds out her hand. Sokka and Katara grab forearms, all Water Tribe community. Aang offers a wrist, pulse point exposed, fluttering beneath skin like so much air. The Fire Nation offer their palms, too many rules about how high and what angle one is supposed to hold themself at. Toph just offers her hand. "Are you doubting me?" She asks. 

He laughs and takes her palm in his. 

She gives him her name and she gets his, too. He's polite like that. 

She's already sitting beside a Firebender under the sun, but she knows the warmth she feels now is his name. Like sun-warmed earth, gentle and cozy. There's a pronounced ebb and sway, familiar from her time on ships and on Appa, a floating untethered with salt in the air. Iron that follows. It could be a ship still, one of the ironclads the Fire Nation is known for, but Toph feels it in her spine. 

Straight backed, chin lifted as if an apple rests under it, palms down, never up, rigidity she thinks. Then movement in the air around her. Something circling her but she can't place it. Weight on her shoulders, slipping around her, holding her close and warm. Standing watch over your family, she thinks, and is reminded of nothing more than the badgermoles showing her how to move, to listen, to feel, until her feet and hands have calluses. Of herself, putting Aang in front of every boulder she could find and telling him to face it, don't run away, don't flinch. 

When Toph first met Zuko, he'd fallen to his knees in front of his Uncle. When she met him next, he'd fallen to his knees in front of the gang. And then again, shot full of lightning he'd collapsed as soon as they'd made their way to the palace. 

But each time he'd gotten back up. 

He's been telling them his name all along, she laughs. 

"What's so funny, Toph," he says, barely a breath. But he says it, her name, and in his mouth it doesn't sound delicate or fragile or wanting. 

She punches him in the shoulder, but says it back, says Zuko's name. Sun warmed earth and iron and stubbornness. "You've got an earthbender name, Zuko." She says and he laughs. 

It's years before Aang learns Zuko's name. He remembers, a lifetime ago now, showing Zuko their camp in the temple and promising, "I won't ask your name. You don't have to tell me, never if you don't want to." 

Aang meant it. He still means it. He never wants to take that choice from Zuko. The air nomads had believed that your true name was something meant to be shared and cherished. Aang holds the names he knows close. They fuel his breath and his wind, creating lift in his soul. 

Laughter on the wind Gyatso, Steady as the earth is wide Appa, Rabbitferret paws in snow Jinra, Dancing with embers Kuzon, Light reflecting through crystal Bumi--Aang has a chest full of names that twine through his lungs and heart and bones. 

He keeps the names of his new friends as well. Sokka gives him his name much later but Katara's is almost the first thing out of her mouth and he's always held tight to hers. 

Ocean waves against a rock-sand beach and heart thumping as he races down ice slides. The hearth fire, beating like a heart as he’s welcomed in from the cold, almost pulled away from it. Steady hands holding his, the bite of ice thawing away. Of waking, lungs gasping for the sharp, cool, clean air of a crisp winter day. Warmth like curling up next to Appa and eating a good stew and feeling it curl into his stomach and through it all, the knowledge that here he’s safe. Here he doesn't have to worry. 

Push and Pull Aang thinks when he hears her name. 

He learns Sokka's name later, and learns that he's the shelter in Katara's name just as she's the hug-warm fur in his. They all gave their names to him freely. 

Zuko doesn't really have that chance, the first time it comes up. 

"But I'll tell you?" Zuko had said, his hand still out, held up. The last time a Fire Nation boy had tilted his hand up to Aang it had been Kuzon. He’d been standing as well, a smile in his eyes, palm wide and welcoming. Zuko’s palm is held slightly angled by degrees. The difference is as wide as the oceans are deep.

Aang had taken Zuko's sleeve and tugged his arm down. 

The thing is, Air Nomads shared their names freely and with love. But the Avatar doesn't really have a choice. Not really. 

Aang's name used to be something light and airy, he knows. But ever since he woke up from the ice the piece of his name that was him feels like it's been getting smaller. Every dip into the Avatar State, every possession by past lives, every entry into the Spirit World, it made the part of Aang that was Aang smaller and smaller. 

Roku helped them escape Crescent Island and for weeks afterwards Aang could only feel volcano smoke in his chest. Kyoshi stepped into Aang's body and introduced herself as the wind that felled trees and Aang kept looking for fans that didn't belong to him. 

Sokka had asked for Zuko's name because knowing someone's name is power, a contract signed with an exchange. The spirits don't give unless they are given in return and so this is the way of names. But, Sokka had asked for Zuko's name and had not given his in return and that meant Sokka, then Katara, had all the power. 

The rules are different for Avatars. If someone asks for Aang's name he must give it. It is part and parcel of being the bridge between the worlds. But his name isn't even his anymore, it belongs to the Avatar, like Roku and Kyoshi before him. It doesn't hold any power over him for others to have it, but it isn't his to claim either. 

Zuko had made a deal for the Avatar back at the South Pole and in the metal walls of his ship he'd told Aang to give his name. They'd both looked surprised when Aang gave him his Soul Name. It at least confirmed to Zuko that Aang was the Avatar. 

Like the Blue Spirit in Pohuai, Aang didn't tell Katara or Sokka that Zuko knew his name. 

And Aang didn’t tell Zuko this. He never said, _I know what it is, to have your name taken from you_ he doesn’t say _I won’t do that to you_ he doesn’t say _I wish it didn’t happen to me_ but in that memory of the Western Air Temple, Zuko blinks and understands him. 

So it's three years after the war that Aang learns Zuko's name. Toph punches Zuko on the shoulder and says Zuko layered with knowing and Aang yells in surprise. "You know Zuko's name! When did that happen?" 

"We won a whole war!" Toph yells, "Zukonym-anonymity club was dismantled!" 

"Zuko what?" Zuko asks and is ignored. 

"We had a pact!" 

"It was a mutual agreement at most!" Toph sticks her tongue out at him and Aang crosses his arms. 

Zuko looks between the two of them, genuine worry on his face, hands hovering as if to stop them from fighting and Aang lets it go with a laugh. Even now Zuko is never sure what friendly teasing is from actual fighting. Knowing him there wasn't much difference growing up. 

Aang brings it up again, later, just to make sure. "You decided to tell her, right?" 

Zuko looks confused for a moment then nods in understanding. "She gave me hers first. It seemed the right thing to do." 

They blink at each other, and Aang knows they're remembering the same moment in time, the same day. 

"Oh," Firelord Zuko turns red from his neck to ear tips. "Oh no," Aang only grins.

"You knew my name first!" Aang giggles, teasing. 

"Shut up!" Zuko covers his face with his hands, "I can't believe I did that! I was so dumb!" 

"Yes, hello Mr. Avatar please psychic whammy my brain with your all powerful name I'm only trying to capture you!" Aang teases. He doesn't get the rasp in his impression of Zuko but he doesn’t need to for Zuko to get it. 

"I'm sorry!" Zuko half-yells, defensive and embarrassed. 

Aang laughs Zuko off. Zuko grabs Aang's sleeve until Aang looks at him and Zuko says, again, "I'm sorry. I didn't know then, but that wasn't right of me." 

And Aang understands that Zuko is remembering a different conversation, and he knows that even if Aang hadn't said those exact words then, Zuko knows him now. 

"It's okay," Aang says, "You didn't know." 

"I know now." Zuko's eyes search Aang's face. Aang doesn't know what for, exactly, but he sees Zuko nod and sees resolve wash over him. 

Zuko holds out his hand. The degree he holds his hand is precisely the angle one offers to a friend, as opposed to the angle one offers to a superior, or the two-handed supplication one offers to someone who is so far beyond your class you offer disrespect to look at them. "Let me repay the favor." 

Aang frowns at him, clasps his hands behind his back. He catches the almost hurt expression on Zuko's face and says, "You don't owe it to me." 

Zuko softens and smiles, keeps his hand out. "I want to give my friend my name." He says and Aang, startled, doesn't move away when Zuko pulls Aang’s hands in front of him. "I think he'll take good care of it." 

Aang nods and takes Zuko's hand. 

Immediately, Aang feels like Momo curled in an afternoon sun-beam. Warm, cozy-warm, the kind that makes you reluctant to wake up, almost too warm but that's a Firebender for you, Aang smiles. And salt-spray in the air, of course. The Fire Nation is a chain of islands, they had stayed in Zuko's beach house, he thinks stifling a giggle. Then sharp metal, ozone, electricity behind Aang's teeth, or like the press of steel under his neck as he's backed out of a fortress. That fits; not being able to see who it is but feeling their stare, trusting someone you don't know to help you to safety. 

Then there's the sound of wing beats, and scales sliding past one another and oh, Zuko sits on the dragon throne now, doesn't he? An unseen dragon twisting around him, wings draping over his shoulders, a weight and legacy that's difficult to stand under but standing nonetheless. 

It's the knowledge that history has its eyes on him and every move he makes. It's looking beside him to see thousands of eyes staring back, knowing if he fails they'll all blink out one-by-one. 

Trying anyways. He can't quit just because he might fail. 

"Zuko!" Aang says and, ignoring everything, pulls Zuko in and flings his arms around him. Zuko hugs back, and Aang can hear the smile in his voice when he says Aang's name, too. Something hitches in his chest, he's not sure why, but the inflection... 

It sounds a little more like what he remembers his name to be.

Firelord Ozai's true name is shadows flickering over rock, cast from a distant blaze. It's movement in the darkness, striking quickly. It's walking under the sun's rays, pride and warmth like a mantle. It's feeling the floor shake and knowing where the dragon sleeps. 

Princess Azula's true name is running full speed, lungs bursting with laughter and ozone--everyone had known she would master lightning--crackling over your skin making your hair stand on end. It's a bonfire burning so brightly it calls down a storm of thunder and rain. It's the ash left behind, white and floating like snow. 

Zuko had always thought Azula's name was pretty. 

Zuko's mother's name is tree blossoms on the wind, a curtain of pink and white. The moment when spring turns to summer and the wet heat can tip into a monsoon at any time, but it hasn't yet. It's movement in shadows, a knowing smile, and then the stage is set for a new scene. 

Uncle Iroh's name is a dragon curled around treasure, claws dug into gold. It's soaring in the air under the sun's rays, free and untethered. It's feeling the warm rock under your feet as you walk along the ocean's edge and it's the smell of jasmine tea in your hand, a hug you can drink, liquid heat behind your breastbone. 

Zuko's true name, the one Agni had gifted him with when Zuko had opened his eyes on a winter night, was worth nothing. 

Oh, his mother cooed his name, like the memories they had of Ember Island were anything but bitter in their nostalgia. Lazy, his father would say. Beach spray and sun burns, like his Uncle. Useless. 

"We are an island nation," Lu Ten used to tell Zuko, "I'll command a ship, then the navy!" Before he decided to follow his father in the army instead. 

"Everything is a balance," his Uncle would say. "The moon commands the tides we rely on. Fire is in our blood, but the fish we eat swim in the ocean." 

Before Azula was born, everyone had thought Zuko would master lightning in his father's footsteps. But once you tasted the true lightning in Azula's name, you couldn't mistake Zuko's for it. It's not until Master Piandao that Zuko places the smell. Burning metal. 

Swords are in his soul in a way that Firebending isn't, and no one acts surprised. Zuko was never going to be a prodigy. 

Whenever his father says Zuko's name it curls with disappointment. The weight of impending failure. Zuko hates it, hates his name and himself, all of it. 

Hates that he was born in winter when Azula was born on the summer solstice. Hates that Agni named his father Strikes from Shadows and his sister Lightning Storm, but Agni saw Zuko take his first breath and named him Failure. 

Smothered under the weight of it. 

After his banishment, the scar feels like a part of his soul. He guesses, he's lucky Agni didn't name him after burning flesh. 

The Avatar's name is a thousand voices overlapping, a thousand different soul names at once. Zuko can catch Volcano smoke, obsidian black like the caves under Caldera, and a wind so strong it can split mountains. 

Underneath it all Zuko hears something much younger, smaller. A heart buoyed by air, bells carried faintly on the next breeze, falling a hundred feet and only laughing, seeing the storm clouds ahead and reaching out to them, afraid and determined. Like the lightning that strikes out won't hit you because the storm will blow over if you can just, reach, out-- 

If there's more, Zuko can't tell. 

Zuko has never loved his name, so it's easy for him to give it away when Sokka asks. It hurts to hear it still. He doesn't think anything is worse than the way his father and sister say failure, but it's new. 

The way Sokka says his name, fire-on-steel, an invasion of one, makes Zuko hiss. It's a strong name, but it's not a reading he recognizes. He guesses the Water Tribe read true names differently. 

Katara says his name and it manages to make Zuko feel worse. Blood spiller. It's the way she says ashmaker, and it sends a chill into his core. He thinks he'd rather be a failure. 

Uncle says Zuko's name like he's drinking tea. He savors the top notes, the shallow warmth of Zuko's name, the sea-salt sting. He knocks his elbow against Zuko's side once when the Wani had been docked at a neutral port and the crew were in high spirits for once, and he says: "Who can be unhappy, with this written in their soul?" 

He'd meant that moment, warm and full and with family. 

Zuko had only cared about his banishment and his failure. 

Katara starts saying his name differently. Like she's changed. Or like he's changed, somehow. 

She calls him Zuko, and means Ember Island the way his mother meant it. She means Sokka buried in the sand and Aang jumping into the ocean even when Zuko is chasing him. 

Zuko starts thinking, maybe trying to change is something he won't fail at. 

Azula says his name like it's bitter. She says it between episodes of laughter, even when he's not there to laugh at. She snarls Zuko! Zuko! Zuko! Her hair frizzed and out of place. She always hates having her hair out of place. 

This is the ash after the fire he realizes and feels ashamed. He had thought it was pretty. 

Still, Azula says his name like he is a wind up toy. He keeps walking until he falls down, he gets wound again and starts over. 

It's the first time she says his name and he doesn't hear it as failure. He doesn't know what it means though. 

He learns when Toph tells him. He didn't know at the time that he was the first person Toph shared her name with. It doesn’t change things, he still treasures her name like the gift it is. 

He doesn't think Agni names Earthbenders, but he reads her name like a Firebender anyways. It's sculpted clay baked in a kiln so hot it's nearly cold. It's shattered porcelain pieced back together with gold until something better takes shape, and if ozone meant Azula would Master lightning then of course gold meant Toph would Master metal. It's the weight of a hand, steady in his, solidly leading him off the path, somewhere different. A warm embrace, a mountain standing unbowed. 

Toph says his name, sunbeams and stubbornness and his heart catches. An Earthbender name, she says. 

"We'd say that Agni named you Path Breaker." 

“Path Breaker? Not porcelain or something? Miss Delicate Born-to-Shatter Glass Doll!" The bitterness in her voice tips him off more than the violent jerk of her arm, sending rock skidding away from them, somewhere into the distance.

"There's nothing delicate about your name." Zuko says, "it's a trouble making name." 

Zuko's been told, over and over again that he's a failure or lazy or worthless. He knows that he's none of those things. Now at least, he knows it. He believes it sometimes, too. He has to, trying to run a nation. 

He knows what his father would want him to do, so he steadfastly ignores anything that feels like Ozai. He, instead, tries to listen to the part of himself that is sunwarmed. To the salt-sprayed beach. These gentle things written in his soul that he had thought were weaknesses, but make his people love him. 

When he remembers his mother's theatre darkness he tries to resurrect traditional festivals, creating seasonal jobs as a stepping stone to a more solid social infrastructure. 

When he remembers his Uncle's jasmine tea, he outlines tentative reparations, researches claimed lands and how to release them from Fire Nation control, how to deal with the colonies. 

Aang tells him he's doing a good job and flits across the nations to help settle tensions and find solutions. Zuko doesn't chase him anymore, or any of his friends. His heart stutters in his chest when they're gone but... he supposes he knows they'll come back. The way Uncle always does. 

He gives Aang his name far too late, but the Avatar had told him to wait until they were friends. 

They're probably friends now? 

Aang's name is feeling like the wind is carrying you, wind chimes heard faintly in the breeze, diving off the edge of a cliff just to feel your heart beating so fast. It's seeing the storm gathering before you and edging closer, like, like maybe something is there behind the lightning, that you can reach out and touch and tame and if you can just get one, step, closer-- 

Zuko doesn't think he's surprised that Aang's name is friendship. He thinks he always knew. 

"I can't believe Agni named you Dragon Prince." 

"WHAT?!" Zuko sputters and shoves Aang off of him. 

"We went to the dragon temple, Zuko! You know what a dragon feels like!" 

"I thought it was metaphorical! Like: 'the line on the dragon throne ends with you' or something!" 

"No, no I'm pretty sure Agni meant Dragon Prince. Stubborn Dragon Prince too Good, too Pure for this world. I'm the bridge Zuko, I'm pretty sure I'm right!" 

The noise Zuko makes is pretty embarrassing, and to cover it he shoves Aang off the walkway. Aang's an Airbender (and the Avatar) so it's fine. Zuko smiles behind his hand. Aang's an Airbender, and the Avatar, and Zuko’s friend.


End file.
